The boys of 221B
by InallofTimeandSpace
Summary: Sherlock returned to John over a year ago, but things haven't been the same within 221B Baker Street. Johnlock.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock or any of these characters. BBC does. **

It had been a whole year since Sherlock returned to him. John watched Sherlock from across the lab at Bart's as he squinted into a microscope and furiously scribbled notes onto a piece of paper, completely focused on whatever the hell he was experimenting with this week. Those years without Sherlock were living hell for him; thank god he was never strong enough to end it, because now he had him back. Although, not everything was the same since Sherlock's return. Their small touches have become more and more frequent and lingering, while John would love to claim it was him to begin this, it wasn't.

It had all began a week after Sherlock's return. John had handed Sherlock one of the many cups of tea he made for him daily when they were at the flat. Their hands touched and remained there for a moment longer than was necessary. John thought nothing of it at first, but then it happened again and then again, until it became a common occurrence that gave John butterflies no matter how many times it occurred. It soon escalated to hands resting on shoulders and knees when one or the other was sitting anywhere in the flat. Nothing new had happened in their relationship in weeks though. Could he really even call it a relationship?

"John would you mind coming over here?" Sherlock's voice brought John out of his thoughts and he realized that he had been pretty blatantly staring at him.

"Uh, yea sure." John got up and walked over to where Sherlock sat at a microscope.

Sherlock had dragged a stool over next to his and looked at it and then a John as if he expected John to sit.

"What do you need from me?" as soon as John sat on the stool Sherlock put his hand on his knee and turned back to his microscope. His cheeks were tinted with a slight shade of pink.

"My thoughts seem to have the ability to clarify only when you are near." Sherlock continued to look into the microscope his cheeks going an even darker shade of pink that John found endearing on him.

John said nothing as he felt that familiar tugging feeling in the bottom of his abdomen at Sherlock's words.

They settled back into their separate actions. John eventually put his hand on top of Sherlock's and entwined their fingers, he felt him stiffen from surprise at the contact but he relaxed almost instantly into his touch.

John wondered just when Sherlock was going to admit to this strange relationship. Should he just jump in and initiate a kiss to get all of their obvious feelings in the open? Or would that just overload Sherlock and cause him to run away from this? No, John wanted this to work, he would wait for Sherlock.

After a few minutes Sherlock's hand slid out from under Johns swiftly, seconds later Molly walked in.

"Oh, hello Sherlock! Do, do you need anything?" Molly was flustered as always being in Sherlock's company.

"No, not today Molly, thank you." Sherlock stood from his stool and strode over to his coat sweeping it on with those swift graceful motions that made John loose his mind. "We are done here actually, come along John." With that he swept from the room.

"Oh. Ok." Molly looked dejected, normally John would feel sorry for her, but his thoughts were previously occupied.

John grabbed his coat and rushed out after Sherlock.

The cab ride back to 221B was an unusually quiet one.

Sherlock avoided Johns gaze by watching him in the reflection of the window, the pink in his cheeks slowly draining from his face returning to its pale completion of stone. John observed Sherlock out of the corner of his eye. Why was Sherlock expressing his feeling and hiding them at the same time?

When they pulled up to 221B Sherlock paid the cabbie; momentarily surprising John with his strange hospitable behavior. When John got out of the cab Sherlock was already through the door and up the stairs into the flat.

John entered the flat to complete silence. Where was Sherlock? Usually when it was this quiet John could find Sherlock sulking on the sofa, but the curled up lanky body of a grumpy Sherlock Holmes was nowhere in sight.

Something warm suddenly grabbed John from behind.

"John." Sherlock's warm breath breathed his name into his ear.

Sherlock's breath sent shivers down John's spine. He never believed that he would hear his name come out of his friend's mouth in such a sensual manner. For a moment they just stood there, John in Sherlock's arms, both men leaning into each other.

John eventually turned in Sherlock's arms to face him. His face looked more peaceful than John had ever seen it. They locked eyes and John could see all of the colors that made up Sherlock's deep, grey? blue?, eyes that anyone could lose themselves in.

Sherlock's features suddenly had a look of fascination and nervousness, at least John thought that was what he looked like nervous, Sherlock had never been nervous about anything since John had met him. Sherlock took a deep breath and began to pull John closer to him and leaned his head in close. Right before their lips met Sherlock stopped as if he wasn't quite sure that he was doing it right. John quickly closed the distance between their lips.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock, if i did we would have season 3. **

_Right before their lips met Sherlock stopped as if he wasn't quite sure that he was doing it right. John quickly closed the distance between their lips._

John felt the warmth of Sherlock's lips against his and reveled in it. Never in his wildest dreams had he ever thought that this would happen. Well, ok. Maybe in some of his overly ridiculous dreams he did, but he had no idea it would ever actually happen.

The kiss was simple and innocent, lips touching lips. John went to deepen the kiss but just as his tongue touched Sherlock's lip he drew a deep shaky breath and pulled back.

"I've never done this John." Sherlock looked more scared and young than John had ever seen.

John's stomach dropped. Was Sherlock only doing this because he had deduced his thoughts earlier? "You don't have…" Sherlock swooped down and captured John lips again in a similar chaste kiss.

"You misunderstood John. I merely meant I do not know how to do these things." Sherlock looked into Johns eyes. "I had refrained from this type of affection for the mere reason that I have never done it before. These feelings are so new to me, John; sometimes I do not know what to do with them."

John felt a blush creep across his face. Sherlock really was trying for him. Sherlock was still looking into John's eyes trying to deduce what was going through his blogger's head when John grabbed the back to his neck and brought his lips down to his own again.

This kiss was passionate. John raked his tongue across Sherlock's bottom lip hoping to be successful in deepening the kiss. This time Sherlock opened his lips to John with no hesitation. Sherlock tasted amazing and John pulled Sherlock closer to him. Soon it became a heated battle of tongues as John and Sherlock both enjoyed the taste of the other.

A ring suddenly echoed through the flat.

Slowly pulling away from Sherlock ending the kiss John reached his hand into Sherlock's jacket pocket and pulled out his phone.

"Hello?"

Lestrade's voice came from the other end of the phone, "John, mate, we need you and Sherlock at a scene. Is Sherlock busy or something?"

John chuckled as Sherlock pulled him close and buried his face in his hair, "Yea, something like that. We will be there soon Greg, text Sherlock the address." John closed the phone without waiting to Lestrade to reply and captured Sherlock's lips in one last kiss.

Sherlock's phone chimed signaling the arrival of the text.

Sherlock gave John one last short kiss before grabbing his phone from John's hand and stepping out of their tight embrace.

As he grabbed his coat from beside the door to the flat John saw Sherlock's face transform back into the emotionless stone complexion that he gave to the world. He already missed the soft Sherlock he had grown to love as much as the cold Sherlock he fell in love with at first.

"Come along John." Sherlock stated blandly as he rushed down the stairs and out onto the street to hail a taxi. John followed, like he always would.


	3. Chapter 3

_Authors Note: Hey lovely readers and followers! Sorry this chapter took so long, life and a terrible case of writers block hit all at once. I hope to get out at least one more chapter in the next week to make it up to all of you! Thank you for reading and following! Reviews are very welcome._

**Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not in anyway own Sherlock or it's characters **

The cab pulled up to the crime scene and Sherlock jumped out leaving John to pay the cabbie, as usual. So we are back to the usual then, John thought. Of course it was nothing more than he should have expected, cases always occupied Sherlock's entire mind; him being Mr. Married-to-my-work Holmes and all.

As John walked up to the crime scene he could hear Sherlock shouting at the officers from the Yard.

"Anderson! How could you be so idiotic!?"

John walked up and stopped beside Lestrade as they both watched a scene play out in front of them that they were becoming far too used to.

Sherlock was standing over the bloody body of a young blonde woman who, from where John was standing, appeared to have been brutally beat and shot. Anderson was standing off to the side of the murder scene on a muddy patch of ground looking angry and offended at Sherlock's insults.

"I was just getting out of the way so that you can get done and get off my crime scene faster, Freak." Anderson growled at Sherlock.

"Yes, but did you not stop to look down and see the foot prints in that mud before you idiotically trampled all over critical evidence?" Sherlock glowered at him.

"Sherlock," Lestrade, seeing Anderson getting worked up to a dangerous anger level, "do you have anything or not? Another DI will be here soon and I'd rather not try to explain why I am allowing civilians access to a murder scene."

Sherlock, with one last penetrating glare at Anderson, turned toward Lestrade. "Yes Inspector. This woman is in her mid 30s, single, probably lives alone without a roommate judging from her appearance and the fact that no one with her description has been declared missing. She was beaten and shot here about 8 hours ago judging by the bruising. We are looking for a male in his 20s who is very built. She didn't know him judging by the markings on her hands and her broken nails, which indicate she fought back. I would say this was a hit."

John was standing beside Lestrade watching Sherlock spill out deductions and marveled at the man's brilliance. He still, after years of knowing and living with the man, was amazed by Sherlock's brain and how he could see everything unlike anyone else on earth.

"Brilliant" John breathed out, at the end of Sherlock string of deductions, without consciously meaning to. Sherlock's eyes discretely moved to meet Johns and for a brief second John thought he saw a smile form on Sherlock's face, but it was gone before he could really acknowledge it.

"A hit?" Lestrade asked, "You mean someone hired someone to kill this woman? Why?!"

Sherlock rolled his eyes, " Lestrade, someone obviously wanted this woman dead. I do not have enough data from here to formulate why, but I'm sure the girl's apartment will give us some clue. Do you have the address?"

"There wasn't any ID on the body, Sherlock. We have to send in for a DNA test to find out who she is."

"Fine." Sherlock was obviously trying to withhold his anger at the inefficiency of the police; John hoped the wall of their flat would not be on the receiving end of that anger tonight. "We will await your call with the victim's details at Baker Street."

With that Sherlock turned and headed back towards the street to hail a cab, assuming John would follow.

"What's wrong with him? He seems more irritable than normal, even for him." Lestrade looked questioningly at John.

"No Idea." John said as he jogged after Sherlock and climbed in the cab Sherlock was waiting in.

John had to admit Sherlock was a bit more irritated by the officers than he usually was. What really got to John was his easy admission to waiting for the lab results on the DNA of the victim to come in, that wasn't like Sherlock at all. He and Lestrade were used to Sherlock taking his own blood sample and rushing off to Barts to do his own tests, not trusting the lab at the yard to do the job properly. Instead here they were in a cab on their way back to Baker Street, after only spending a few minutes at the crime scene.

John looked over at Sherlock to see if he looked ill and just barely caught Sherlock quickly turning his head back towards the cab window. Had he been staring at him? John could feel a blush start to rise in his cheeks at catching Sherlock in the act.

The rest of the cab ride was filled with John sneaking glances at Sherlock hoping to catch him again outright this time and Sherlock innocently staring out the window taking a particular interest in the blurring scenery that he never had an interest in before.

The cab stopped outside of 221B and Sherlock actually paid the cabbie and waited for John before going up to the door to unlock it. They both went up to the flat and discarded their coats in the usual places. John was about to ask Sherlock about his strange behavior and whether he was feeling well, but when he turned around he jumped from shock. Sherlock, the man moved as silently as a cat, had walked up right behind him as he put his jacket on the back of his chair.

John looked up into Sherlock's face and saw all the warmth in his eyes that was completely vacant at the crime scene except for his split second smile, meant only for John. In that moment John threw all his thoughts about Sherlock's odd behavior out the window.

John leaned up and wrapped his arms around Sherlock's neck just as Sherlock leaned down and placed his hands on John's hips. Their lips met and the two men melted into each other.


	4. Chapter 4

_Author's note: Hello again! This is probably the fastest I've ever written a chapter_ before._ Enjoy! Reviews are lovely and welcome!_

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock or John, no matter how many times i put them on my Christmas list. **

John felt warmth pulse through his whole body as he leaned into Sherlock's lips. He could feel Sherlock's hands move, one to rest on his back, the other on the back of his neck as Sherlock deepened the kiss. John let Sherlock explore his mouth for a few minutes before he invaded Sherlock's mouth back. The kiss became much deeper as both fought for dominance.

Before John knew it Sherlock was suddenly pulling him down on top of him on the couch. When they hit the couch the two men broke apart breathing heavily.

John repositioned himself on top of Sherlock so that his head rested on his chest and he could hear Sherlock's heart beating fast, still running on adrenaline.

"So, this is why you were acting so strange then?" John breathed out, still slightly out of breath.

"Yes," Sherlock replied as he slipped his arms around John and ran one of his hands through his hair.

"hmmmm, don't mind it so much then." John mumbled into Sherlock's chest as he ran his fingers through his hair.

They laid like that, John in Sherlock's arms and Sherlock stroking his fingers through his hair, until the light coming through the windows from Baker Street faded from sunlight to the dim light of the street lamps.

"John." Sherlock's deep baritone voice broke through John's light doze, from the smoothing feeling of Sherlock's fingers in his hair.

"Hmm, Yea Sherlock? What is it?" John lifted his face to look up at Sherlock.

Sherlock's face was full of a warmth and innocence that John had never seen before. He gave him the smile that John knew was only ever for him.

"Do, do you think we could keep doing this?" Sherlock suddenly looked very young and, was that fear?

"What? Like this?" John asked moving up to press a light kiss to Sherlock's lips, loving how Sherlock was opening up to him.

Sherlock smiled against Johns lips. "Exactly," Sherlock murmured against John's lips before deepening the kiss.

They kissed languidly for a few minutes, just enjoying the feeling of finally being in each other's arms.

John pulled back from Sherlock's lips and lay back down on his chest. "You never need to ask, Sherlock."

John could feel Sherlock smiling at him as he slowly drifted off to sleep in the arms of the man he never thought he would ever have. "We will have to talk tomorrow," John thought as his mind blurred, "but not now."

As John's breathing evened out and he fell into sleep, Sherlock remained there holding John and looking at his face, which appeared much more young and innocent than it ever did awake. "John, I think I may love you." He mumbled as he drifted into sleep himself, his words penetrating John's dreams bringing a small smile to the man's face.


End file.
